


Trophy Wife

by misspamela



Category: Invisible Man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspamela/pseuds/misspamela





	Trophy Wife

It all started, as it usually did, with Darien just minding his own business.

He was hanging out with Hobbes at their favorite bar, eating some wings, watching a little baseball, sucking down a few draughts, just like any other Friday night, when the doors opened and -

"Shit, Hobbes, cover me!" Darien ducked down as far as he could in his seat and tried to cover his face with one hand.

Hobbes popped his head up, swiveling around, one hand on his gun. He looked like an unusually aggressive groundhog, searching for its prey. "What? Who is it?"

"Tiffany. Black skirt. Tall boots. Proportions not found in nature. Over in the corner by the pool table." Darien jerked his head towards the leggy blonde teetering her way over to the corner of the bar. She "accidentally" bumped a few of the guys playing pool on her way by, giggling her apologies and halfway falling out of her dress. Darien figured that she'd have their phone numbers tucked into her bra before she got her second drink.

Hobbes started to chuckle. "Old girlfriend?"

"Not exactly."

"Ooooh, a little blast from Fawksey's past!"

"Hobbes-"

"Well buddy, you'd better go see-through, because she's looking this way," he smirked. "You are not an inconspicuous man, my tall friend. And those" Bobby pointed down at Darien's legs, which were currently _past_ Bobby's chair in Darien's desperate attempt to slouch as low as possible, "are not inconspicuous pants."

"She can't even _see_ my pants!"

"That may be true, but it's worth pointing out that, should you ever want to hide, those are not the pants to do it in."

Okay, Darien was really not in the mood to talk fashion. "Hobbes, I�""

"Uh-oh. Here she comes."

"Bobby!" Darien begged.

"No worries, Fawkes. I got it." Hobbes stood up, smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of his white dress shirt and sauntered up to Tiffany. "Hey, baby," he purred.

She cocked her head to the side and tapped her wine glass with her long, red nails. Darien wondered what the hell it was about Hobbes that made girls not smack him. "Hey, honey," she answered, every bit as predatory as Darien remembered. Beautiful. Now Hobbes could distract her and he could sneak away, free as a bird.

Except that she was motioning at Darien and Hobbes was nodding along with a shit-eating grin that Darien did not like one bit. And now he was leading her straight for their table. Darien was going to _kill_ him.

"Hey, Fawkes! Look! It's an old friend of yours!" Hobbes pulled out the chair across from Darien and led her to it with a flourish, like she was some kind of lady.

"Wow!" Darien said brightly. "Imagine that!"

"And she was telling me the most _interesting_ thing about you." Hobbes said, as Tiffany smirked at him from across the table.

"I can't even begin to guess," Darien said.

Tiffany shrugged, almost pulling off an air of innocence. "Fawkes, your friend here was _shocked_ to hear about your old nickname."

Oh, great. Hobbes was practically _imploding_ with glee. He smirked at Darien. "Choirboy?"

Darien just let his head drop into his hands.

"Darien Fawkes, the choirboy!"

"Okay, Hobbes, knock it off."

"You should have seen him in the old days…women used to practically _throw_ themselves at him." Darien looked up just in time to catch Tiffany's smirk. "He'd run faster from them than he would from the cops." She tilted her head. "Seems like you should've been more worried about the cops. Didn't I hear that you got life in prison a few years back?"

Hobbes jumped in, finally. "He got a good lawyer." He grabbed Darien's shoulder. "Hey, we have that�""

Darien snapped his fingers. "�"that thing."

"For the boss�""

"�"with the guy"

"�"and that, you know, the deadline"

"�"it's really important so, uh, it's been real, Tiff."

They both stood up, Darien threw some money on the table, and they speed-walked to Darien's car.

"So," Hobbes started, before the car doors were even closed. "Choirboy, huh?"

"Listen, Hobbes, you know what kind of women I met when I was a thief?"

"Uh…other thieves?"

"If I was lucky. And _they_ would turn on you as soon as you fell asleep."

"Okay, fair enough."

"The other women were like, well, like Tiffany." Darien waited for this to sink in.

Hobbes looked confused. "Hot?"

Darien laughed. "Skanky."

"Fawkes, I am surprised at that kind of judgmental talk coming from you. Women have just as much of a right to be easy as you or I." Hobbes paused for a moment and grinned widely. "Maybe more."

Darien rolled his eyes and went back to concentrating on the road, lost in thought. "Nah, it's not that. It's just…there's a certain kind of girl that wants to go out with a guy on the wrong side of the law, you know? It's like you're some kind of weird trophy."

Hobbes nodded. "I get that a lot. You wouldn't believe the amount of women that want Bobby Hobbes to show off to all their friends. I'm a status symbol."

"A status symbol, huh?"

"Better than a Lexus, my friend."

Darien pulled into his parking spot. "So, for years, all I've got are criminals and criminal groupies. Then, of course, I was in prison…" he trailed off. God, he hated thinking about that crap.

Hobbes shuddered. "I get the picture. And then, with the gland�""

"Exactly."

Bobby nodded thoughtfully. "You know what your problem is? You're a romantic."

"Pot, meet kettle," Darien snorted.

"Don't you know it," Bobby low-fived him, grinning ruefully.

Darien shook it off. His dismal love life was really the least of his problems. "But you know what? That doesn't matter."

Bobby looked at him. "No?"

"Because I have you, my friend. You've got my back, partner. That's more important than some chick, right?"

Bobby grinned. "You got that right, partner," he said, "and if that needs to involve a few friendly blowjobs, Bobby Hobbes is up to the challenge."

Darien's brain stopped for a second. "WHAT?"

"You said it, right? All we have is each other in this cruel world," Bobby dabbed dramatically at the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, but�""

"And believe me, I have bedroom skills that will knock your socks off," Hobbes said, making an aggressive gesture across the bridge of Darien's nose. "I'm telling you, I have done things that make women _weep_ with joy. Men too," he added.

Darien almost laughed. Like it was Hobbes' _abilities_ that were even the point �" or maybe they were. As much as Darien hated to admit it, Hobbes was right. It's not like he had any better offers. And he might get to find out whatever it was that made women fall at Hobbes' feet.

Darien shrugged. "Okay."

Hobbes looked pleasantly surprised. "What are we waiting for?"

Darien laughed as he was getting out of the car. "I should warn you," he said, "I have to Quicksilver both of us before…you know."

"Yeah?" Hobbes nodded approvingly. "Kinky."

Darien couldn't hold back his smile. "Yeah, well, I have some skills myself."

Hobbes held open the door to Darien's apartment. "I have a feeling this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful relationship, my friend."


End file.
